BBRae Week
by Minna Dee
Summary: Unconnected one shots for BBRae week!
1. Chapter 1

Day 1

Nighttime

The moon was full, not that she could see it anymore to confirm the bright orb still hung in the sky. The tree canopy was thick, a lush ceiling of green that made the night seem far darker than she could recall it being before. It had rained lightly earlier, making the soil beneath her feet soft, the scents of damp earth heavy in the air. Raven leaned heavily against the rough bark of a large tree, trying to catch her breath. She had been running blindly for some time, long enough that she was utterly unsure exactly where she was or in which direction she would need to travel to find civilization once more. It was summer, but the dampness in the cool mountain air made gooseflesh rise on her arms. Absently she rubbed her hands over them, her amethyst eyes darting about at every soft sound and perceived movement.

 _I'm lost,_ she thought to herself with a shake of her head. She'd been battling against the concept for a while, but it was the unavoidable truth. She didn't know where her campsite was. She didn't know where one of the marked trails were. She didn't know where she was. Robin had told them all that the Appalachian wilderness was one of the most dense in the country. He'd been clear about staying near their campsite and not wondering away from the trails. And yet here Raven was, slumped against the broad tree trunk, hopelessly lost.

Something large rustled in the foliage and the empath held her breath, flattening herself against the tree in an attempt to blend into the bark. It was dark and if she didn't move . . .

A low growl rose from the shadows. The eyes that had been scanning the wood saw her well enough. There was a moment of conflict in which the empath felt torn between the innate instincts to run or to stand and fight. In the end she ran, her feet moving swiftly over the forest floor, her knees lifting high with each stride in an attempt to avoid tripping over a fallen branch or the clutching vines that seemed to be everywhere. At full speed she sprinted, gracefully weaving between trees, until she could no longer hear the tell-tell sounds of pursuit. Panting, she came to a stop, her hand clutching at an outcropping of rock. She was tiring and with a curse her nails dug into the outcropping.

"Is that your game? Run me until I'm too exhausted to fight back? Coward," she called out to the night itself, unconcerned about giving away her position. Her pursuer knew where she was. There hadn't been a moment since she'd wondered away that she'd honestly been alone. Crickets sang and in the distance an owl called. "I'm not running anymore." Bushes shook for a moment in the distance. The crickets paused in their song, a low rumbling sound reverberating from the top of the tree just to her left. "I'm not running, I'm done." She repeated the statement more for her own sake than that of her stalker. Apprehension was slipping coldly up her spine, her leg muscles tensing. She could feel the hungry gaze so intensely, she was nearly certain that she could see eyes, burning into her from the leaves above.

 _Run . . . run . . . run_.

Raven could not read thoughts, but somehow the emotions of her hidden pursuer screamed the word. The anticipation, the patient certainty, the tension that grew and grew . . . it all pushed at her, willing her to flee. Her will weakened, her stomach fluttered. Tighter and tighter the muscles in her body wound, preparing for the dash she didn't want to make. Was this the way the mouse felt as the house cat's unwavering gaze assaulted it? Was this the reason the hare ran from the fox? She was suddenly certain that this was indeed the compulsion that gripped every small and furry thing under the burning eyes of impending doom. If she didn't run there could be no chase and the stalemate might last forever. Her very own predator lunged slightly, nearly leaving the concealing green of the tree branches. Those tightly wound muscles sprang and before she could remember that she was going to stand her ground she was running again.

Raven pushed herself to her very limit, forcing her legs to propel her despite the protests of her tired body. This was it, the final run. She had been worn down and she could feel the elation of her chaser as they closed in for the kill. Closer and closer the presence loomed until a paw darted out in an attempt to trip her. The empath managed to avoid the brunt of the contact, feeling nothing but the fleeting caress of fur against her ankle. It was a short lived victory though. The paw struck out again, hooking around her calf. She tripped and stumbled forward, the forest floor below unavoidable. At the last second arms snatched at her, catching her before she could tumble to the ground.

"Gotcha," a familiar voice muttered before sharp teeth bit insistently, but not overly painfully, into the side of her throat. Raven lay prone and panting in Beastboy's embrace, allowing him to do as he wished. She trembled from exhaustion and the adrenaline that still pumped through her veins. He growled playfully, reveling in his victory before he looked down into her face, a frown touching his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It . . . it was just more intense than I thought it would be."

"You could have said the safe word," he reminded gently, bending to kiss lightly at the skin he had assaulted. "I would have stopped if . . ."

"No . . . no, it's okay." A soft laugh suddenly bubbled from her lips and she shook her head. The tree canopy wasn't as thick here and as she lay in his arm, against his chest she could see the moon once more. Her clothes were damp and her body ached, but she felt elation swell in her chest. She felt vividly, spectacularly alive.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Languidly she stretched in his embrace, nuzzling her nose against the underside of his jaw, before catching him by surprise, biting sharply at his own skin. He growled again, louder this time. "Well, you caught me Gar. Now what are you going to do?" Even in the cloaking shadow of the surrounding night she could see his sharp teeth glint as his lips curved in a predatory smile.

"Oh, Rae . . . what do you think? I'm going to eat you alive."


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2

Family

"Was it like Jungle Book? Were you raised by wolves?" The questions seem to come from nowhere. In total fairness though he hadn't been listening as closely as he should have been as the ten year old spoke.

"What?" Gar Logan asked, looking up from the over cooked pasta, still trying to determine if it was salvageable.

"Raven said you grew up in Africa." Raven, who had ruined the noodles in the first place didn't look up from the kitchen table where she was checking over Timmy's vocabulary words for the week.

"I did."

"So? Was it? Were you?" Melvin looked up at him expectantly and he shook his head.

"No, I wasn't raised by wolves." He couldn't help but chuckle at the idea.

"A bear and panther, then?" She smiled brightly, hopefully. "I got assigned Africa to write a report about."

"Oh," he nodded, dumping the pasta into the trashcan. He would start from scratch. "Firstly, Jungle Book happened in India, not Africa. Secondly, my parents raised me while I was living in Africa."

"Nana and Gramps?" Blue eyes squinted up at him in doubt before trailing to where the empath still sat with Timmy, as if waiting for the woman to call Gar out on the story he was telling.

"No," he told her, smiling wistfully. Melvin still called he and Raven by name, but somehow Steve and Rita had instantly become the girl's grandparents. "Nana and Gramps adopted me. Just like how me and Rae adopted you."

"Everyone knows that," Timmy teased, glaring at his sister from his seat at the table and Melvin stuck her tongue out at him.

"Everyone knows you pee the . . ."

"Enough," Raven said in warning, pushing the sheet of paper back in front of the boy. "Don't pick on each other."

"Mama, she was the meanie! I just . . ."

"Focus on your work. These three are misspelled." The empath pointed to indicate which words on his paper needed fixing. The boy grumbled under his breath momentarily, but went back to work.

"The part of Africa I lived in was beautiful. Our house was on the boarder of the Lake Manyara National Park."

"Did it have a swing set?" Timmy asked, having looked up from his homework yet again.

"No, it wasn't that kind of park. It was a safe place for animals to live."

"What kind?" Melvin asked, scribbling furiously on her piece of paper.

"Lots of different kinds. Lions, hippos, impalas, elephants . . . lots and lots of animals."

"Were you ever afraid of the animals?"

"Not usually. It's not like they came all that close. They usually kept their distance."

"But you actually saw them, right? You saw real lions? That weren't in a zoo?" Melvin paused in her writing, looking up at him with awe.

"I did. On many occasions."

"Wow! It sounds so cool."

"It really was."

"Why don't you still live there?"

"Done!" Timmy suddenly shouted triumphantly. "Can I go play now?"

"Hold on," Raven muttered, looking over his paper a second time. "Very good, Timmy. You can play but dinner will be ready soon."

"Thank you!" He shoved away from the table and dashed out the back door. The boy's outburst hadn't distracted Melvin in the slightest, her eyes still questioning and upon Gar as he diligently stirred the second attempt noodles.

"Well . . . I couldn't be here with you and your brothers if I still lived there, could I?"

"I guess not." She mulled this over for a moment, rolling her pencil across the countertop. "Do . . . do your real parents still live there? In Africa?"

"No, they died when I was a little boy, Sweetie."

"Oh." She didn't seem to know what to say for a moment, her lips twisting as if fighting for the right words. Raven migrated into the kitchen silently, her hand squeezing lightly at Gar's arm for a moment. She was not often overtly affectionate, but she was clearly offering support during the suddenly difficult conversation. "They probably loved you a lot." Melvin finally muttered, her eyes still on her paper.

"Yes," he agreed simply.

"My parents . . . real parents. They aren't dead, are they?" The girl knew the answer to the question and there was no point lying.

"No, your biological parents aren't dead, Mellie." Garfield pulled the pot off the glowing stove eye, setting it aside before he bent down and picked the girl up, sitting her on the countertop so they were eye level.

"They didn't want me. Not after I got . . . weird. Not after I made Bobby up and stuff started to happen."

"Listen, sometimes grown-ups get scared. They do dumb things because . . . because they don't know what to do. That isn't your fault. You aren't weird, Melvin. You are very special and I'm very, very lucky that I met you. You're my daughter and I love you. I love you and no matter what, that isn't ever going to change."

"Yeah?" she asked shakily, her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Yeah, I promise. We're a family. We'll always and forever be a family." He smiled at her, gently soothing his fingers over her long, blonde hair. Melvin nodded, blinking away her tears. She smiled, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Can I go outside and play before dinner? The paper isn't due until Friday."

"Sure," Raven told her with a soft smile and the girl jumped down from the counter, rushing out to join Timmy. There was a long moment of silence, Gar moving to finish the spaghetti as Raven began their salad.

"That was hard," the changeling told her with a nervous chuckle.

"I know. The boys don't remember their parents at all. It's almost like they never even existed."

"As far as they're concerned they don't. We're all they're ever going to know. It doesn't mean they won't ever have questions, still . . . it makes it easier."

"Yeah," she nodded, sighing softly as she cut tomatoes. Green arms wrapped around her waist a moment later, his warm cheek rubbing lightly against her own.

"Thank you," he breathed against her ear.

"For what?"

"For all of this. For this life. That first time you asked me if I wanted to go with you to the monastery to visit, if I had said no . . ."

"You didn't say no."

"I could have."

"But you didn't, Gar." She sat her knife aside, stroking at his forearm. "I should be the one thanking you. I never could have adopted the kids without you."

"You can do anything you set your mind to, Rae. It would have been a heck of a lot harder, but you and these kids . . . that was always meant to be."

"Ummm, maybe."

"Most definitely, Mama." She rolled her eyes and jabbed him lightly with her elbow.

"Dinner will never be ready at this rate," she chided lightly, pointing to his pot of spaghetti. She picked her knife up once more, going back to work. "This family . . . all of us . . . that was always meant to be."

"Yeah, you think?"

"Oh, most definitely, Papa."


	3. Chapter 3

Day 3

Undercover

Author's notes: This story fragment straddles a fine line between the T and M rating. If you're highly sensitive about adult content you may want to skip this particular one shot.

All characters within copy write DC Comics and Warner Bros

Song snippets "Cheap Thrills" by Sia

* * *

The club was dimly lit, painfully loud, and uncomfortably crowded. Beastboy had stood in the corner for a long while, trying to concentrate on his mission and ignore the diverging animal impulses that had him on edge. The Titans didn't go on undercover missions too often, but when they did Robin was strict, making what he expected abundantly clear. And it was always clear that he would tolerate no slips in character. This was all about fact gathering, staying under the radar and that was impossible if the criminals you were watching had even the slightest inkling you weren't what you appeared to be.

Beastboy appeared to be a rather average looking man, his blonde hair falling into his green eyes as he bobbed his head lightly to the music. He looked utterly relaxed as he leaned against the wall, a small smile on his face. Internally he was fighting a silent battle with a part of himself that felt a little like a skittish rabbit, wanting to bolt from the loud sounds and a darker part of his psyche that wanted to use the concealing cover of the dark room to stalk and pick off one of the weaker, uncertain people that stood a little away from the dancing mass at the middle of the club. Unconsciously he licked his lips, his eyes assessing each of the stragglers that were far too removed from the safety of their undulating herd.

"Watch yourself," a sudden voice said above the music and he looked to his left, glaring down on a mop of black hair that had been curled slightly in preparation for their outing.

"It's under control," he grumbled, his nose scrunching as his team mate looked up at him and the smell of alcohol caught his attention. "You should be worrying about yourself, I think."

"I'm fine. I just needed to relax. Just a tiny bit." She held her thumb and index finger up to show him the small space between them.

"Rae, I think maybe . . ," he began only to be interrupted.

"You're a horrible date, Gar!" The words were loud enough that several women glanced in their direction, giggling. "How could you bring me here and then not want to dance with me?"

"I . . . I . . ," he sputtered, pushing off from the wall. She was his "date" tonight, when they entered the club she had been on his arm after all. "I didn't think you'd want to. I know you're shy."

"That was the whole point of coming, right? To get me out of my box?" She made air quotations wildly before her hands flew to the flare of her hips.

"Ummm . . . yeah, okay. Let's dance, then." He wanted to ask her if she was play acting or if she had honestly forgotten exactly what was going on. Raven was more than relaxed, she was in fact, pretty drunk. He knew the crowded club was harder for her to deal with than anyone else on the team and he understood why she'd tried to numb herself a bit. She never drank though and had practically no tolerance. He took her arm, partly to guide her, partly to insure she didn't tip over and began to lead her toward the dancefloor.

"No," she told him, her hand tugging at his shirt for a moment, her head shaking.

"I thought you . . ."

"It's too crowded. Over there," the empath insisted, pointing back to the dark corner he had been inhabiting in the first place. The small group of women had moved on and it was the closest thing to private the room had to offer.

"Alright," Beastboy grumbled, sighing loudly. Together they returned to the corner, Raven pulling away from him slightly before turning back to face him. Her hands landed heavily on his chest and for a moment she just blinked up at him, unmoving. Then slowly, slightly, her hips began to sway. The song was upbeat, the rhythm simple and easy to move to.

 _Come on, come on turn the radio on,_

 _It's Friday night and I won't be long._

Gar jumped slightly when her hands began to slide down his chest, her hips swaying faster. Lightly her fingertips skated downward before grabbing at his wrists, jerking his hands forward. Her eyes, dark blue with her holoring on, focused on her hands holding his own.

 _Gotta do my hair, I put my makeup on_

 _It's Friday night and it won't be long._

The pad of her thumb pressed against the very tip of his own, putting pressure on the curved, inhuman nail there until it nearly pierced her skin. It almost seemed she was checking to insure that it was still there, despite the fact she couldn't see it. That, perhaps, she was reassuring herself that he was still him, regardless of the façade her eyes perceived. A second later she guided his hands to her hips, which where shifting and twirling in time with the music.

 _Til I hit the dance floor, hit the dance floor_

 _I got all I need._

 _No I ain't got cash, I ain't got cash_

 _But I got you Baby._

He was going into sensory overload. He could barely hear the crowd anymore or the music. He couldn't smell the sweat and cheap beer. He couldn't even remember who he was supposed to be on the look out for. There was nothing in the world except Raven. His ears tilted forward to focus on the sounds of her breath as she moved and the strumming of her heart, which had become the music she swayed to. Dark pupils dilated to watch her hips . . . full and ripe, sway tantalizingly. His fingers flexed, threatening to leave holes in the thin skirt she wore. She was closer now. Had he pulled her forward or had she moved of he own volition?

 _Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight_

 _I love cheap thrills_

Her hips knocked into his own and he made a hungry, needy sound that could never escape human lips. Luckily they were alone in their moment and she was the only one to hear. Her hands were become restless, wondering over his chest and up to his shoulders. She pulled herself closer, eyes that had been closed opening in what appeared to be surprise when she felt what was sandwiched between her body and his own.

 _But I don't need no money, as long as I can feel the beat_

 _I don't need no money, as long as I keep dancing_

The tension made him freeze, a particularly useless animal instinct that had rarely been of any help to the changeling. Raven continued to stare blankly, looking past his shoulder and into the strobing lights beyond. The hand that had fisted in his shirt loosened. Any moment now she was almost certainly going to seriously injure him and blow their cover. Her hand lifted and his eyes closed, preparing for the blast of dark energy. Her fingers, cool and soft, trailed the outside edge of his ear instead. He heard her sigh in relief and that bubble of tension burst. Her hips began to move to the music again and grunted loudly. She hadn't retreated, her hips grinding against his own. The eyes that had been looking over his shoulder were now intently honed on his.

"Rae . . ," he moaned, his fingers flexing again, this time digging into her flesh instead of just her skirt.

"It's okay," she muttered breathlessly.

 _Baby I don't need no dollar bills to have fun tonight_

 _I love cheap thrills_

"We . . . I . . . we . . ." His arguments against what they were doing kept dying somewhere in between his brain and mouth.

"Please," she keened, so soft and desperate it pained him. "Please don't make me stop." The entire thing was wrong. She was drunk, not just from the alcohol she had consumed, but from the lust that hung in the air as young people groped in the dark. They were supposed to be watching for . . . for . . . for someone. They were working. Undercover. A lie. What was happening between them wasn't real. Raven pressed harder, her hand once more moving to close around the pointed tip of his ear. He liked the sensation, but realized that what she was doing wasn't an attempt at stimulating him. Her eyes were intently on his because they were still his eyes and when she'd pressed against his claw, the touching of his ears, she was affirming that she knew who he was. They were undercover, cloaked by technological glamor. That was true, but what was happening in that moment, it was real.

"Raven," he growled softly against her ear and she jolted against him slightly. His hips began to follow her own, hands possessively clamped over her hip bones. Lightly his lips ghosted over her forehead, pressing at her chakra stone. Her body jerked again and he wondered fleetingly if the glittering protrusion actually had some level of sensation or if it was simply that he was reciprocating her signs of recognition. Faster they moved, no longer in time with the beat of the thundering music. Her fingers were tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling with a pressure that was nearly painful. Tiny droplets of blood bloomed, staining the cream colored skirt as claws dug deeper still. Faster, faster . . .

. . . and then she froze, her entire body stiffening. She made a soft, strained sound in her throat, her eyes snapping shut. Overhead a strobe light popped loudly and then a second one. The dark club was filled with wavering light and loud sounds, however and no one seemed to notice. Beastboy momentarily considered taking a step back and ending the encounter, but then the scent created by what had just happened, what he'd helped make happen, invaded his awareness. His hips bucked, his lips slamming into her own to muffle the very loud, very animal sounds that were trying to escape him. Raven shuddered almost violently, clutching him closer before going limp in his embrace. Panting, he lifted his head, looking down into eyes that were barely open.

"I felt you . . . " she began breathlessly, the loud trilling of the cellphone in Beastboy's pocket interrupting her admission. The changeling fished the phone out of his back pocket, bringing it up to his ear.

"Hel . . ."

"This is the third time I've called you." Robin informed with no preamble, his irritation making his words sharp.

"Sorry."

"I sent you five or six texts."

"I'm sorry. It's loud in here."

"We're waiting for you, in the car. I was able to gather enough intel for tonight." There was a pause, followed by a weary sigh. "Have you seen Raven?"

"Umm, yeah. Yeah, I see her now. We'll be out in a minute." He pocketed the phone once more and studied the woman that slumped heavily against him for a long moment. "It's time to go," he told her softly.

"Okay." Together they headed for the exit, the empath leaning heavily upon him as they walked. Raven was probably going to kill him tomorrow after she sobered up. What they had done was raw, impulsive, and very public. It was wrong. But, as her hand closed around his own, as her fingertips began to worry again at his claws, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was real.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 4

Talents

He found her sitting on the front porch, her legs crossed underneath herself, head bowed as she examined the cuff of a pant leg she held close to her face. It was early morning and the first chance he'd had to speak to her privately since he arrived for his visit two days ago.

"Raven, I'd like to be frank with you." It was best to get right to the point. The house was full to overflowing and an interruption could occur at any time.

"Alright," she muttered, not looking up from the pants she studied. "To be honest though, going from Dick to Frank seems like a lateral move." Her voice was as monotone as ever and he huffed as he sat down beside her in a wicker chair.

"Garfield is rubbing off on you," Richard Grayson told her, his dark eyebrow lifting when her mouth quirked into a slight smile. Her lips even parted the tiniest bit, contemplating a comeback, before they closed again. Had she honestly considered making a dirty joke? This conversation was long overdue if she had sunk to that level. "What are you doing?"

"Timmy's pants are a little too long. Rita showed me how to . . ."

"No, I mean . . . why are you here?"

"I was planning on enjoying the sun in peace before it got too hot. It's been uncomfortably humid by the time . . ."

"Raven, you're wasting your talents," he said it bluntly and the empath raised her head to look at him for the first time.

"What exactly do you mean by that, Richard?"

"You are one of the most powerful being in the universe. The whole of existence! But you're sitting here, with a needle and thread, altering a pair of pants."

"And?" Raven looked back at the boy's dress pants, beginning to work again.

"You could be out there saving the world."

"Is the world ending at the moment?" It was a valid question, but Dick made a frustrated sound.

"You know what I mean. I don't understand why you're squandering your life, your incredible gifts! What happened that you decided to give up and hide in the middle of nowhere, playing happy housewife?" The man threw his hands in the air, his blue eyes opening wide as if in an attempt to see the perceived malady that had afflicted her. Slowly his hands settled back in his lap, but Raven did not look up from the pants. She didn't say anything for nearly five minutes, finishing her work. Slowly the empath folded the pants and sat them on the little table beside her.

"The things you perceive as gifts, are actually curses. They stunted me, they tainted me. I was able to shape all that brokenness into something good and I'm thankful for my time with the Titans. It taught me a tremendous amount about who I actually am. The circumstance of my birth . . . my existence is the furthest thing from ordinary. But tell me why that has to equate that I spend the whole of that existence being extraordinary."

"Because, Raven . . . because you are extraordinary and you have a duty to . . ."

"By that logic you wouldn't be allowed to call yourself a hero. You're clever and fast and well trained . . . but you aren't exactly supernatural, are you, Dick?"

"I choose . . ," he began hotly, only to be interrupted.

"Exactly. You choose this life. You pursue it. You're invested in it. It's who you really are at the core of your soul. Fighting crime, being that voice in the night for justice, that's your talent, there's no doubt about that."

"It's yours too, Raven."

"No. I learned to do it because it was better than waiting for my darkness to consume me. I put the expected amount of effort in and no more. It was never, not for a moment, my passion. I felt obligated, a penance for the crime I was certain I would commit in the future."

"The fact that you overcame Trigon just shows how talented you really are. You have to see that what you're doing here is . . ."

"What I see, Richard, is a man that dares to come into _**my**_ house and tell me that _**my**_ husband and _**my**_ children are a waste of _**my**_ time!" Heat simmered in her eyes now and he had to force himself to remain seated, his expression calm.

"I just wanted to encourage you. Justice League is wanting to add more female members and I can't think of anyone better . . ."

"I don't care if the League is going to consist only of women from now on. My life choices are my own. I'm not using this lifestyle as a crutch or a convenient hiding place. I love Gar. I love the kids and more impressively, they love me. Maybe that's my talent, being somehow endearing enough that people love me, despite what I am." Her anger had wilted into something far more somber and she stood.

"You are very . . ." Richard began, but she walked back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

"What happened?" Gar asked, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter.

"What? Nothing. I'm just cleaning." Raven looked over her shoulder briefly before focusing again on her task.

"You're organizing an already organized pantry, Rae. You're angry cleaning."

"I don't do that."

"Yeah, you do. And you're doin' it like crazy right now. So . . . what happened?"

"Noth . . ."

"It's Saturday. I have nothing better to do than bug you all day, so you might as well tell me now. Save both of us from unnecessary irritation."

"Dick was talking about the League."

"When isn't he talking about it? Ever since Cy got in it's like an obsession."

"He was talking about me joining the Justice League." She turned to face the changeling, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Oh." Silence hung in the air for a moment as Gar processed the information. "Do you want to join?"

"No," she answered truthfully. "He said . . . he said that I'm wasting my talents."

"Wasting? That's crazy. You use your talents every day." He pushed himself away from the counter, lightly draping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a loose hug. "You have one heck of a talent for keeping this family on track. It would be total chaos around here without you. That's what you do, Rae. You make sense out of chaos. You fit together broken fragments and make them one awesome whole. You do it with yourself, you do it with the household. You make me feel whole, Raven. You take my broken, jumbly mess and somehow all the pieces fit."

"You're sweet when you want to be, Garfield." Her arms wrapped around his neck in a hug and he chuckled.

"Maybe that's my talent."

"No, I think your talent is . . ." she lifted herself onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, the skin on his cheeks turning a muddy brown as he blushed.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 5

Confessions

Author's Notes: This story is based in the continuity and characterizations created by the Justice League vs Teen Titans movie, so technically AU. I, of course, own none of the characters within.

* * *

"Are you busy?" The question seemed to come from nowhere at all, like a ghost had descended upon Raven's small clearing. She recognized the voice instantly however and didn't worry too much about it's seemingly disembodied status.

"Do I look busy?" she asked in rebuttal, waving a hand over the incense that burned before her.

"Ummm," this seemed a little like a trick question. The answer was, no she didn't _look_ busy at all. She looked like she was just sitting . . . er . . . floating quietly, doing nothing. "Can I talk to you?" It seemed like a safer question in the end and the tiny gerbil that edged slowly forward in the grass felt rather pleased with himself.

"I've had my fill of talking, thank you anyway."

"Raven," he whine in irritation.

"Garfield," she mimicked his tone, deep blue eyes rolling. "It isn't my fault you waited until the middle of the night to come give me your condolences or pep talk or whatever. You should have gotten in on the pity party earlier. It went on all day, if you didn't notice."

"I noticed." Oh, had he noticed. The empath had been bombarded with support from the other Titans. He hadn't been able to get a private word alone with her all day. Which was why he was disturbing her meditation. There was something he needed to say and he needed to say it now. "Raven, are . . ."

"I told you I don't want to do this, Gar. Everyone asked if I'm okay and I said yes. And it's true. I'm fine."

"I wasn't going to ask if you were okay," he informed softly. He was a tom cat now, his golden eyes catching the light of the moon as he looked up at Raven.

"It's not like we were engaged or anything. It isn't a big deal."

"Maybe I can . . ." he began only to be interrupted again.

"What, go beat him up like Jaime offered? Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this?"

"Well, you dated Damian for a while. I guess everyone thought it was a big deal. The dating and the whole . . . breaking up." As a green fox he settled into a sitting position, bushy tail wrapped around his paws. "That isn't what I was wanting to talk about though."

"I always knew he would leave." the empath informed her team mate as she sank until she was actually sitting in the grass as well.

"Really?"

"No," she admitted softly, shaking her head. She and Garfield had always been close and there was something liberating about talking to an animal. Sure, it was really just the changeling, but somehow, there was something magical about the experience. "I thought that at first. I was sure of it, but time passed. He was here for so long that I . . . I stopped expecting it. "

"Did he talk to you about it any or was he just gone?" He was some long, graceful looking dog now, a breed Raven couldn't identify.

"There was no formal discussion. I knew he wasn't content on the team anymore. I half expected him to ask me to go with him."

"O-oh . . . I see. Are you . . . do you . . . wish he had?"

"I'm glad he didn't. I would have told him no."

"You're a good Titan, a good team mate." It was strange to see a wolf nodding in understanding and had Raven been prone to such things she would have laughed loudly.

"No I'm not. Three fourths of the decision would be entirely selfish. Can I tell you something, Gar?"

"Anything."

"I'm relieved that he's gone. I'm glad it's over."

"Why?"

"Damian and I could talk for hours about lots of things. Lots of serious things. He's smart and confident. He always knows exactly what he wants."

"Those . . . don't sound like reasons to break up with someone." Garfield slunk a little closer, settling to lay on his stomach. He felt comfortable in the wolf form and felt no compulsion to change, for the moment anyway.

"We talked for hours on end about serious things, but he couldn't relax and just have fun. He's smart and he makes sure everyone in the room knows just how much so. He's a braggart and cocky. He knows what he wants and what he wanted always mattered most." She sighed loudly and to her own surprise stretched out in the cool grass beside the large green wolf.

"My dad used to tell me everything happens for a reason."

"Maybe it does." She rolled onto her back, looking up at the stars.

"Can I tell you something, Raven?"

"Anything." She glanced back at him, to find him in his natural form for the first time that night. His eyes seemed to glow like twin suns, nearly too brilliant to look upon directly.

"I love you."

"Of . . . of course you do. Just like Kori and Victor and Jaime love me. We're family."

"No . . . I mean, yes . . . of course they love you and we're totally a family. But I didn't come out here tonight to ask if you were okay. I came to ask you if you'd consider going out with me sometime. Because . . . I really love you, Raven. Like . . . in love with you, love you."

"You . . . you . . . no, that's crazy. When did you even . . ." The whole world was spinning and she found herself reaching out for something firm to grasp on to. Her fingers ended up tangled in his red and white uniform, clutching desperately.

"Fall in love with you?" he provided and she nodded weakly. "I don't know. A long time ago. Before Pretty Boy Wayne showed up and stole you away from me."

"Garfield, I . . . I . . ."

"I know this is sudden. I wasn't planning on telling you now. I just wanted to ask you out. I just couldn't help myself. I don't want to miss my chance. You're so wonderful and it won't be long 'til the next smart, suave, not green guy comes along. And then I'll have to wait all over again."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" The befuddled look upon his face made her chuckle softly and she found herself blushing.

"I'll go on a date with you."

"You will?"

"Yes," she chuckled again at the loud, animal whooping sound he made.

"You won't regret it! I promise! And no pressure. Just forget I told you . . . what I told you. We'll start from square one and . . ."

"I don't want to forget. It's the first time anyone . . . anyone has ever said those words to me, Garfield."

"E-ever? In your whole life?" She nodded, looking away bashfully. "I should have done it better then," he mumble critiquing himself.

"It was perfect," she told him, her eyes still upon the stars. "And we don't have to start from square one, either. I'm already three fourths to where you are."


	6. Chapter 6

Day 6

Gifts

"Okay . . . I really need you to say something, Rae." He had expected a couple minutes of shocked silence, that was the point of surprising someone after all, but it had been ten minutes at the very least. Ten minutes and Raven was still silently standing in front of her birthday gifts, her face unreadable.

"Garfield." She said it with absolutely no inflection and it was impossible to know if she was commending him or reprimanding him for the things her large purple eyes beheld.

"Uhh . . . maybe a little bit more than just that." The silence prevailed and the changeling fidgeted nervously. "Do you . . . I mean . . . you understand, right? You get that, that this is yours, right?"

"I understand," she replied, giving one curt nod. Still, she didn't move from her spot, didn't advance in an attempt to look at her gifts any closer. "My birthday is over four months away," she reminded softly.

"I know. Raven . . . I'm dying here. Please tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't know what to think," the empath admitted, finally taking a step closer. "I'm struggling to understand why you did this."

"You know why. You needed these things and . . ."

"And it was my problem. Why did you . . . this isn't some trinket. This . . . how much was this?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. I'll never be able to pay you back."

"These are gifts, Rae. You don't pay me back. These are your birthday presents."

"No one gives a house and a minivan as a birthday present! No one does that!"

"Sure they do, I just did."

* * *

Raven had come to the decision that she wanted to adopt "her kids" fairly quickly. It was an easy choice, one that felt instantly right to her. Unfortunately, the decision was the only thing that was easy. The empath tried to remain optimistic at first, but as time went on she began to realize she was ill equipped to take on three children. Legally, Raven was practically nonexistent. She didn't even have a last name, let alone a birth certificate and social security number. That was a relatively easy fix, though admitting she wanted a secret identity had been trying. When she'd gone to Robin to ask for help, he'd asked her a million questions as to why. In the end she had given him some excuse about wanting the security of an iron clad identity if something should go wrong in the future and she needed to hide out for a time. The, at times, overly paranoid leader accepted the explanation. The empath wasn't ready to admit what she was attempting to do just yet. Partly, she coveted privacy as she worked things out, but she knew it would be easier if the others didn't know. That way if things didn't work out they wouldn't bombard her with condolences.

No one knew, except Beastboy. Raven hadn't exactly planned on telling him, but the changeling was nosy and had the worst timing. He had managed to see the paperwork she had been diligently preparing. And then he had pestered until she admitted everything to him. It had been nice actually, having someone to talk to about her plans. She and the changeling had become rather close in the last year. He had matured some and she had relaxed a little. The things that used to repeal them faded away and they found a good deal of commonality. They were more alike than they were different, in fact. And so, one stormy Friday night, it was the shape shifter she went to, her eyes slightly damp from the tears she so stoically denied herself.

"Why am I even bothering to do this?" Raven asked, shaking her head wearily. "What chance do I have? I'm a single woman with no car, no house, no job . . . no hope. I'm not even qualified to have a house plant." They embraced, there in the space between the hall and Beastboy's room. He muttered soft things against her ear as he held her close. He promised her that it would be okay.

And now, just a week and a half later she was standing in front of a lovely, two story home. Her eyes focused on the "sold" sign that hung from the larger real estate advertisement, part of the name obscured by a large, red velvet ribbon, squeaking loudly as it swung in the slight breeze. She took another step closer. There in the driveway of the house a dark blue minivan sat, a large red ribbon beginning to slide off the hood.

"You have everything you need now, Rae. They won't say no. You and the kids will be living here in no time."

"I still don't understand why you did all this."

"This is your dream. You deserve this."

"But, I . . . Gar . . . this is . . . hundreds of thousands of dollars." She knew he had money, not that he acted the part. He occasionally indulged in video games and pizza, but never threw money around.

"What's the point of money if you don't use it to help someone? I can't think of anyone I'd rather help that you." He smiled wistfully for a moment, then continued. "Anyway, it isn't right, those kids being alone like they are. I know what that's like . . . being little and alone. If I can help make it so there are three less orphans in the world . . . then it's worth every penny."

"Thank you," she finally murmured nearly forty minutes after she'd opened her eyes to the changeling's happy shout of "surprise". She moved with purpose now, toward her house, excited to look inside.

"There's one more gift, Rae," Beastboy told her and she turned back to face him, noticing a large envelope in his hands. There was a shiny red bow attached to the top and Raven took the envelope from him, opening it slowly. The paper inside was thick, an official document.

"This is . . ." The marriage license fluttered to the ground, her fingertips too numb to hold it once she realized what it was.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, if you don't want it to." He picked up the certificate and dusted it off lightly. "It's just easier for couples to adopt. And this way you can explain your lack of income. The daughter in law of Steve Dayton isn't really in need of gainful employment. You can claim my assets as your own. I mean, literally. Until you find a job or even if you just want to focus on raising the kids until they're all grown up. I'm here to support you. Emotionally and financially."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"I already told you why, Raven."

"This is just a piece of paper?" She questioned, taking the license back once more and studying it intently.

"If that's what you want then that's exactly what it is. Just a piece a paper, just part of your gift, so you can bring your kids home."

"But what do you want?" She slid the paper back in its envelope. "Do you want to stay here with me? Help me raise the children? Would you honestly want that?"

"Yeah . . . I'd like to stay and be . . . real, not just a name on a piece of paper." Raven nodded at his words, considering. Silently she pulled the small red bow from the envelope. Standing on the tips of her toes she pressed the sticky bottom of the bow to Gar's forehead, pulling away to look up at him with a slight smile.

"Thank you," she repeated softly. "You're the greatest gift I've ever received."


	7. Chapter 7

Day 7

Summer

The late evening sun threw random rays of light through the lush tree canopy, making patterns of gold that adorned the blue hammock and the couple that lounged within. The air was finally cooling down some, crickets beginning to join the birds in a duet. Quiet moments were far more common than they had once been in the Logan household. Time had marched onward, as time tends to do and a house that was once full of children's laughs was now far more subdue. All three children were adults, with jobs and lives of their own. Melvin had married two years ago and had announce she was pregnant at the beginning of the summer. In just a few short months Raven and Garfield would be first time grandparents.

"Rae?" His voice was sleepy, his eyes closed in tranquility as he enjoyed the slight sway of the hammock in the breeze.

"Yeah?" She blinked away the drowsiness from her own eyes, turning her head to study him. He had spent a lifetime smiling and laughing and was developing soft wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. His hair, which was still lush thanks to the fact Raven had taken time each month to heal his hair follicles, was graying on the sides around his ears.

"Mellie said something about naming the baby Garfield if it's a boy. You should tell her it's a horrible idea."

"I'm not going to do that." The empath chuckled softly, playing with the hair at his temples. "She loves you, Gar."

"I know she does. Still, it's not a good name. I mean . . . middle name maybe . . . if she insists, but . . ."

"It's her decision. Besides, I bet it will be a girl."

"You really think?" He sounded excited at the prospect and Raven nodded.

"I have a feeling," she confirmed with a small smile.

"It's still hard to believe we're going to be grandparents. How did I get so damn old?"

"How did we get so old," she corrected. "I'm older than you are, remember?"

"Only in years." The statement sounded nonsensical, but Raven nodded again, sighing loudly. While Gar looked like a man that was in his forties, the empath looked no different than she had the day they brought their children home over twenty years ago.

"I think you've become more handsome, as you age." She sensed his insecurity and wanted to reassure him. She did still find him as attractive as ever and was content with her life with him.

"Give it twenty more years," he grumbled doubtfully, tracing his fingertips down the side of her perfect, unmarred face.

"You'll still be my sweet, generous husband. You'll still be handsome, Gar and I'll always love you."

"Are you immortal?" His words were quick and blunt, forced before he could chicken out. The thought had plagued him more and more as of late, as years passed and it became clear it wasn't that she was aging very well, she simply wasn't aging at all.

"I . . . I don't think so," she responded after a moment of silent contemplation. "I expect I will live a very long time though."

"What's a long time? Two hundred years? Five hundred?"

"I can't honestly say." She had no answer for him and she pushed her face into the bend of his neck as if to hide. Gar knew it meant she really didn't want to talk about the subject anymore, but he couldn't let it go yet.

"I'm going to be eighty years old . . . if I'm lucky enough to live even that long and you'll still be exactly like you were at twenty."

"No one will know. I look my age with my holoring on." This was true, though Raven hadn't aged, her alter ego, while still lovely, looked every bit as forty-something as Gar did.

"I'll know."

"Most men would count themselves lucky to have a twenty year old on their arm."

"Yeah, men are stupid like that. The idea is awesome, but in practice . . . it isn't reasonable. I'm slowing down Rae. And it's just going to keep getting worse each year. Eventually I'll be an old, feeble man with no sex drive, no energy . . . and you'll be in that body with the same wants and zest you have right now. You won't be happy with me anymore. You'll find someone young. Some young guy with . . ."

"Garfield, I'm never going to leave you for anyone . . . let alone some immature boy."

"I was an immature boy once . . . and you fell in love with me."

"I fell in love with you despite the fact you were an immature boy. I looked passed the bad jokes and the tasteless pranks. I saw you, who you are at your very core. That's what I love and that's one of a kind." Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I don't want to think about this . . . about how you're the one that's going to leave me one day. I can't imagine living without you. But I'll have to. For decades, for centuries . . . I'll have to live without you and everyone else I love. It terrifies me."

"Oh." He hadn't thought of it that way and the silence stretched between them for several long minutes. "I'm sorry, Raven. I know you love me and that you won't leave me. I wish . . . I wish I could promise you the same thing, that I'll be there until the end of your own life." He pulled her closer, pressing light kisses upon her upturned face.

"I don't want to be alone," she mumbled, eyes slipping shut to hold back the tears.

"You aren't alone. I'm here, Rae. And as long as I'm here I'm going to love you. I'm gonna love you with everything in my heart and in my soul. I'm going to love you so much that you'll always feel my love . . . no matter how long you live."

"I'll never . . . even if I lived forever . . . I'll never love another like I love you," she promised, eyes opening so she could gaze into his own, twin teardrops rolling down each perfect cheek.

"I know." He smiled, his thumb wiping away the moisture. "I'm not going anywhere for a long time. We have so much life left to share together. Let's just forget about all this, huh?"

"Melvin is going to be such a great mom, she's so excited," Raven stated, eager to leave the previous topic behind.

"Of course she will! She had a great mom to learn from." As the sun set and the fireflies began to quietly flit upward from the grass, the couple linked hands. They talked about their children and pondered how many grandchildren they might have. They planned for the long, happy future they were going to have together and didn't give a second thought to the day when death would part them.


	8. Sleeping Arrangements Vs Pining

"Don't even think about it." Raven grumbled, using her left foot to push the small, warm mass that had just landed on the mattress off of it again.

"Meow."

"We aren't playing this game tonight. I'm tired."

"Meow."

"Go sleep on the couch and leave me alone." The empath pulled the thin comforter over her head, sighing in exasperation when she felt the "cat" jump right back up to the foot of the bed. A moment later the worn mattress squeaked under the sudden weight of her tormentor.

"It isn't a couch. It's a glorified chair. We agreed we'd take turns sleeping in the bed, but it's been four days and it somehow hasn't been my turn yet." This was completely true. On the first day of their undercover mission, right after Robin had abandoned them to the tiny studio apartment and their tedious fact finding mission, they had agreed to take turns in the bed. It was true, but that didn't stop Raven from defending her position.

"Next week is your turn."

"Raven, that isn't fair. The chair hurts my back and I feel cramped and uncomfortable . . . I can't sleep . . . I'm starting to feel like a frigging zombie and . . ."

"Stop whining, Beastboy." She yawned quietly, burrowing deeper under the covers. "You can be any size you want. There's no reason for you to have any issue sleeping on the couch."

"Chair. And I can't hold a form _and_ sleep deeply. It's my turn in the bed."

"No."

"Yes," Beastboy flopped down beside her dramatically, stretching. "Goodnight."

"I'm not sleeping on the couch," Raven insisted and the changeling shrugged, worming his way under the covers despite the empath's attempts to keep the blanket wrapped tight around herself.

"Then don't, I don't care."

"So you'd be okay with me sleep on the floor," she deadpanned and he sighed loudly.

"Did I say that? Stay in the bed if you want, its big enough."

"With you? I'd rather sleep in the bathtub."

"If that's what you really want, Rae." There was a moment of perfect stillness and then the girl beside him grabbed the comforter and jerked. Undaunted, Beastboy growled, grabbing at the blanket and pulling.

"Stop it, you're acting like a child."

"Me? You're the one that's trying to steal all the covers!"

"That's because they're my covers. You have a blanket, on the couch."

"It's a chair! And it's my turn in the bed!" Their impromptu tug of war continued evenly matched for a moment, but the changeling had had his fill and he morphed into a gorilla, jerking with all his might. The next thing he knew he was tumbling from the bed, bringing Raven along with him. He winced as his back connected soundly with the cold floor, the empath landing with a thump directly on top of him.

"Idiot," she seethed, struggling to free herself from the tangle of his limps and the blanket that had become wrapped around them. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"You're the one being difficult. You suck at sharing. Didn't your mother ever teach you that . . ." He trailed off, wincing at his own words. "I . . . I'm sorry, Raven." Still tangled in the blanket, the empath's struggles slowed and then stopped altogether. She closed her eyes, while using her arms to push herself as far away as possible from the changeling. "I'm sorry," he repeated miserably. "You can have the bed, really . . . I don't want it. It's okay."

"It's not."

"It is, really it's okay."

"No it's not," she said more firmly. "I never had to share as a child. Everything I had . . . everything I did was separate from the world. I never had to share because . . . I was always . . . alone." Amethyst eyes opened once more, though she did not look down upon him. "I said we would share the bed. You're right, it's your turn."

"Rae . . . it's okay if you wanna just . . . sleep in the bed too. I won't touch you or anything." Her eyes met his then, for just a moment and he was confused to find sadness and what nearly looked like disappointment swirling deep within her irises.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't." With care she wriggled her way free from under the blanket and stood, making her way to the far side of the bed. Without a word she lay down, her back facing the place Beastboy was now settling. She said nothing as he tossed the comforter over her form, nor did she reply when he mumbled a hushed goodnight.

The bed was far more comfortable than the chair by a long shot, but sleep seemed no easier to come by. Instead the changeling lay, staring at the back of his companion's head, his fingers twitching as he fought the urge to reach out and caress his hand down her silvery back.


	9. Primal Vs Awkward Moment

"It isn't what it looked like." It was the most cliched thing she had ever uttered, but as she followed Robin down the corridor, it was the only think she could think to say.

"This is unacceptable. I've given him chance after chance. I can't ignore it anymore." His pace was brisk, making his way to his private quarters.

"You aren't listening to me. What you though you saw . . ."

"I was there long enough to know what was happening. I know what I saw."

"You don't though." Raven had to nearly break into a jog to catch up with her leader. "Stop and listen to me for a minute!" It was unusual for her to raise her voice in such a way, but the man she chased after ignored her shout.

"The older he's gotten the more . . . the more like an uncontrollable animal he's become. I can't have Beastboy attacking his team mates when ever he happens to disagree with them!"

"That isn't true," the empath argued, grabbing at Robin's arm and making him turn toward her. Richard Grayson shook his head and touched her shoulder lightly, lifting his fingertips for both to see. In the florescent light the blood she had all but forgotten about, gleamed.

"This blood is real. Those bites are real. If I hadn't come home early. . . I hate to imagine just how out of control the situation would have spiraled."

"It isn't. . . you don't understand. Beastboy didn't attack me."

"I saw him, Raven. He shoved you up against the wall. He bit hard enough to draw blood. . . several times. I heard you scream." He shook his head sadly. "Why are you trying to protect him?"

"Because he didn't attack me! We were. . ." she trailed off, bringing her hand to her shoulder, blue healing magic beginning to glow.

"Let me take a picture for evidence before you heal it," Robin demanded, but Raven rolled her eyes.

"No crime happened. This isn't evidence, we weren't fighting, Robin."

"Then what were you doing?" His arms crossed and his frown deepened.

"You were all suppose to be gone for the day. We thought we'd be alone for hours."

"I need to file a police report," Robin insisted, turning away from her again. Once more she grabbed at his arm, spinning him around.

"No! We were not fighting. We were. . ." the last word came out so quietly that the other could not hear it.

"What?"

"Playing, okay? We were playing." Little lines appeared on Robin's forehead, his lips twitching slightly.

"Playing," he repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

"You and Beastboy were playing." He spoke the words as if they couldn't possibly all fit together into an intelligible sentence.

"Yes," she insisted more firmly.

"Raven, if you're going to lie to me, at least. . ."

"It isn't a lie. Despite what you think to be true, you don't know every little thing that happens in this Tower."

"Okay, so let's say I'm going to believe that. What are you telling me? You were playing and at some point someone got upset and it turned into. . ."

"What you saw, that _was_ playing."

"The biting?"

"Yes."

"And the shoving?"

"Yes."

"And the screaming too I suppose."

"Yes, that too."

"People don't tend to scream when they're willingly engaged in. . . rough housing." Even if she wasn't an empath she would be able to feel the doubt that dripped from each word.

"High pitched sounds arouse the prey drive in predators. It excites them." Robin's nose scrunched slightly under his mask at her explanation.

"Excites?"

"Right. It's why he drew blood. Because I egged him on, I encouraged it."

"Why would you want. . ." he seemed uncertain, as if he was beginning to think he did not want to know that answer to his own question.

"Because the smell of blood excites us both. Because I'm not completely human and there's a part of me that craves exactly what was happening before you decided to barge in a ruin what was about to be a very eventful evening."

"Oh." It was all he said for a long minute. "So, when you said play you meant more like . . . like, uh foreplay." He seemed to choke on the last word, grimacing as if it possessed a foul taste.

"It wasn't always that way. Gar and I used to play stalking games . . . games where we took turns being the predator and the prey and that's all it was . . . an innocent game. A secret between us, one we figured no one else would understand. Clearly we were right."

"So . . . is . . . is this . . ." she had never seen the Boy Wonder look so impressively uncomfortable in his life. "Are you and Beastboy . . . dating?"

"If you had to put a conventional label on it I guess you would call it that." This didn't seem to put the dark haired man's mind at ease and he sighed wearily.

"I mean. . . you . . . he . . . it's more than a physical thing, right?" Raven crossed her arms over her chest and frowned slightly.

"Why, because you think I'm incapable of possessing deep feelings for someone?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you think Garfield is just a bundle of hormone and animal instinct then? That what's happening couldn't involve more than that?"

"I didn't say that either." He'd gone from looking uncomfortable to utterly miserable. "I just . . . let's put a pin in this. I just came back to the Tower because I forgot . . ." for the life of him he couldn't remember now what he'd returned to retrieve. "Anyway, I'm heading back out. I'll be back a little after midnight."

"Okay," the empath nodded and spun on her heels, walking away.

* * *

"Is he gone?" The moment Robin's motorcycle engine revved to life, a green mouse had scurried from beneath the Common Room couch, morphing back into his natural form to ask the relieved question.

"He's gone." The pair stood at the window and stared out over the bay. "Thanks for all the help handling the situation by the way."

"Sorry, Rae. You saw the look on his face, he would have beat me half to death before I'd gotten the first sentence out." A green hand moved to lightly stroke over the curve of her neck and shoulder. All his handy work from earlier had been healed, the proof of their encounter long gone. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

"Really? How'd that go?"

"Well, SWAT isn't storming the Tower to take you into custody, so pretty well I suppose." A soft, amused sound rose from the empath. "He looked a little like he might faint. Or vomit. Possibly both, actually."

"Do you think he's really gone for the evening now?"

"Definitely."

"Well then," he growled, licking his lips. "You better run fast, little bird. 'Cause when I catch you I'm going to eat . . . you . .. .alive."


End file.
